Research, and ribbing

I’m thinking about researching my family tree. It was something Hannah and I talked about after mum left. Our knowledge of our relatives, past and present, was based almost solely on our mother’s drink-addled memory and habitual bullshitting, so we’re not really sure if any of the information we have is correct. Most people who ever had to deal with my mum shut her out of their lives completely, so there could be uncles, cousins or stepsons we know nothing about at all. Initially it was going to be a joint project to help wile away the winter evenings, but now Hannah is pre-occupied with Nathan, I may take it on as a solo gig.

The guys at work are having fun at my expense. There are lots of posters up warning of lizard invasions, and some bright spark has mocked up a picture with my head on a chickens body, and a lizard sitting on its back. Most of them have also started calling me ‘Lizzie’ which is a crap nickname, but better than ‘Ches’ I suppose. Philippa says I should be flattered rather than annoyed, as it shows they’ve accepted me as a member of the workforce. The favourite song in the warehouse today was a re-working of ‘Sex On The Beach’ featuring lyrics about “Rory getting ****ed by a lizard.”
I admire them for their wit, but I hate them intently.

RC 5-7-10